Backfire
by AliceMay61120
Summary: I've looked left and right but still no sign of him, and no sign that he's still alive... It's been over a week now and everyone is getting anxious, I dont want to believe it but all the evidence point's to him. Could it be true? Did he have something to do with his wife's death? Please review and tell me if it's worth continuing
1. Clarity

Hey guys! Long time no update I guess. I'm so sorry for the long period of time with no updates. I could probably tell you guys a million reasons as to why, but instead I'm just gonna say enjoy the first chapter to the new and improved Backfire and I hope it fills your expectations with the whole long wait and all.

Till next update

-Alice May

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They say that everyone is innocent until proven guilty. But in reality who does that help? In some cases innocent people are sent to prison for crimes they never committed, and the real perp's are getting away with it. With all my years of being a Special Victims Detective, I've learned that the for sure way to get the right suspect convicted is a confession. It was Elliot's turn to mess with Michel Grant, a suspect in an ongoing rape murder case. I watch as Elliot shove's the pictures of 20 year old Phoebe Mason's bloodied body under Grant's nose, from my spot in the shadows. My partner and I have been trying to get a confession for the past 18 hours and with the 24 hour hold quickly approaching its end, we have to work fast. I look down to the closed manila envelope in my hand, and begin to open it only hastening my pace when I begin to hear Elliot's voice rising and hardening; losing his friendly cop act. I don't exactly know what I was expecting in the envelope but I know that the one thing that I did not expect was a yearbook. Confused I opened the yearbook to the first page and saw the number 38 written on the inside cover. When reaching the page, I find pictures of the student's prom. With no obvious clues and the interrogation quickly coming to a close, I run my hand through my hair and peer up at Elliot and Grant going at it. I begin to close the book when a photo of the prom king and queen catches my attention. My eyes dart to the caption below the photo.

Prom Queen and King: Melody Roby and Michel Grant

It took me only a few seconds before I realized the connection. In mid yell I catch Elliot's eye and he hands the floor to me. I walk up to the table and meet Grant's steady gaze with my own, then the games begin.

"I guess I'm still a bit confused" I start, beginning to walk around the table. Grant follows my every move with his gaze as I keep circling,

"About what" he says smug.

"About why, why Phoebe Mason, I'm sure a handsome man like you has women just throwing themselves at you left and right." Elliot looked at me then to Grant and rolled his eyes, I bite the inside of my cheek to stop my impending smile.

He scoffed "You give me too much credit, Detective" I'm about to speak when he continues "But I have no clue what you are talking about, I didn't pleasure and then kill Ms. Mason." He placed his feet up on the table and leaned back on his chair with his hands behind his head. As if we weren't having a conversation that could end up with him in prison. I shoved his feet off the table and his chair settled back on the ground with a thud.

"Actually Michel, I think you know exactly what" I slapped the open yearbook on the table so hard even Elliot looked startled.

"Remember Melody Roby?" Grant looked at me and for the first time in those long hours of interrogating him I saw what I believed to be surprise and maybe a little fear.

He looked away and replied in a gruff voice "No"

"Oh sure you do, except now she's known as Mrs. Melody Mason." I slid the yearbook back in his line of view and lowered my tone of voice "Admit it, you guys were high school sweethearts and after high school she left you for another man and you were so heartbroken and pissed off that when you saw her again years later all those feelings came back and you wanted to hurt her like she hurt you" My eye's remained trained on his shifting posture. I could tell he was getting anxious from his clenched fists to the sweat beading on his forehead.

He opened his mouth but then closed it I took it as my chance and continued on.

"Come on admit it, when you found out she had a daughter your mind was made up and you followed Phoebe home then you raped and beat her to death because her mother found someone better, someone who was so amazing that she decided to settle down with him and have children. You just couldn't handle it, could you? because you're a cold hearted los-" He backhanded me across the face before I had a chance to move, the force of impact making me fall. In a blink of an eye Elliot had decapitated Grant and put him in handcuffs and was at my side helping me up.

"Damnt Liv, are you okay?" He helped me to stand.

"Yeah I'm fine"

"Good" He squeezed my arm and held on a little longer than was necessary; I looked from his face down to his arm that is still clasped around my forearm.

"Oh, sorry" He let go and backed up a couple of inches. He held my gaze for a few more seconds until a sudden sound made brought us out of our current stupor. We both looked over at Grant who was sobbing. He saw us watching and began to laugh. Elliot looked over at me, eyebrows raised and I just shrugged not really knowing what to do about Mr. Bipolar. As Grant started to speak, the whole room went silent El and I didn't dare breath let alone speak.

"You're all the same. With your manipulative and deceiving ways."

I moved away from Elliot and began to creep closer to Grant.

"What do you mean?" I could see him begin to shake, but he didn't say anything so I continued.

"Who's all the same? The Police?"

All at once the shaking stopped and he slowly raised his head to look me in the eye. I stop in my trek and wait for him to make the first move.

"No" he spat with so much venom, the hairs on the back of my neck began to stick up. From the corner of my eye I can see Elliot shifting his weight from foot to foot, clearly agitated. It's not that I'm not disturbed by Grant's action's I just prefer to not show it. My eyes revert back to Grant as he struggles to get to his knees, the handcuffs seeming to make it only slightly difficult. Damn shame. Once there he looks up at me, gaze cold; almost chilling. I lower myself to his level and whisper "Then who Michel?"

I'm almost taken aback when a smile begins to etch itself into the contours of his face, with that smile his expression almost looks almost deranged. He leans closer to me, so close I can feel the heat of his breath on my skin. What he said next chilled me to the very bone. "All you fucking women"

The words had barely left his lips before he leaped at me hands outstretched, aiming for my neck. Sadly my cat like reflexes seem to taking the day off and Grant ended up on top of me; hands crushing my windpipe. I scratched at his face and hands as Elliot tried to pull him off me. The door banged open behind me as Finn and a few more officers bounded in to assist Elliot. I began to fight harder once my vision began to darken. No matter how hard they tugged, Grant refused to budge, his nails digging into my skin more and more with each tug, at one point even breaking skin. I can feel my mind drifting into unconsciousness, my lungs burning for air. With my last bit of strength I lash out with my leg, feeling it make contact with something solid. Almost instantaneously I felt him release my neck. I turn on my side and began to cough and sputter as I try to catch my breath. I can feel Elliot close behind me rubbing my back while Finn examines the wounds left on my neck, wiping the blood off with his shirt. A cry of defiance interrupts my moment of serenity; I look over at the door where three guards are trying as hard as they can to lead Grant out. He sees me watching.

"Wow" he chuckles "Phoebe never fought like that, just cried and begged for mercy, only stopping when I bashed her head in with that damn lamp."

If the guards hadn't dragged him out, I would've left my own mark on him. That was it, the confession we'd tried relentlessly to get for the past 18 and a half hours. Now that the interrogation's over I can't wait to see that bastard in court, and hopefully later with a needle sticking out of his arm.

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So what do you think? if you don't like this version I still have the old one I can repost if need be. And I'm sorry to ask you guys of this but since I really need the feedback I'm asking for ten reviews before I post the next chapter. Oh and one more thing if you want previews of later chapters I just opened a facebook account under my name for all my upcoming stories later on and for all things Backfire. I'll accept any friend request's. Or if you don't have a facebook I have my email address under my Bio.

-Alice May


	2. Human Shadow

Hey guys sorry about the long wait but here's the second chapter of the new and improved Backfire.

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As soon as a paramedic had finished cleaning and bandaging the wounds on my neck, Elliot led me out of the interrogation room; arm draped around my shoulders. We barely make it three feet into the Squad room before I notice the overpowering stillness. My feet halt in their pursuit towards my desk, Elliot stops at my refusal to continue; the look in his eyes seems to ask what's wrong but I don't bother to answer. I just keep looking past him, at everyone else; cops and civilians alike with all their gazes trained on us….on me. You know that feeling you get when you think someone's watching your every move. Yeah try that feeling times 20 and knowing not feeling but knowing their all watching you; waiting, for what, I don't know. As if reading my thought's Elliot squeezes my arm and whispers calming and encouraging words in my ear. I keep my gaze straight and breathing even, while my nerves feel as though there on fire, El's breath on my skin being the oxygen that feeds it. Just out of the corner of my eye I can see Munch failing to hide the smug look on his face, Fin shaking hands with Novak as if sealing a deal. It's then that I suddenly realize how this look's with my recently divorced partner's arm around me and his lips very, very close to my head. So like a good detective I made my decision without a moment's hesitation and turned my head so Elliot could no longer speak into it and shrugged his arm off my shoulders.

"Olivia?" he questioned, expression one of confusion.

As cold as I felt for going through with it, I ignored him and began to walk the remaining feet to my desk, alone. The crowd in between my destination and I divided giving me just enough room to pass through; not any less, not any more. Even though it really only took me a few seconds to be at my desk it felt like an hour had ticked by, but if it had I doubt the silence would of changed. So far the only thing that really had changed was the direction of every single head in the room as their gazes came to rest on me, in my seated position at my desk. As calmly as I can (considering I currently want to run for the hills) I begin to file away all my notes on the Phoebe Mason case, taking my sweet time to place them neatly in a folder and place them in the top drawer of my desk. I take my keys from my pocket and search for the one that will lock my desk. The loud slam of a door sliced through the ever thickening silence, causing me to drop my keys. My head darts to the source of the disturbance; my unlocked desk soon forgotten. I wasn't the least bit shocked in seeing Cragen standing in the open doorway of his office. Within the time span of a second, the attention went from me to a very pissed off Captain. His gaze swept over everyone in the squad room; a bitter cold seemed to replace the silence.

"Why the hell are you all just standing around?" he growled dangerously, nobody moved. "Get back to work, before none of you have any jobs to get back to!"

The room seemed to erupt with movement, everyone seeming to forget about the Grant incident. I place my attention back on Cragen when I see him staring at me wait not at me but past me. Suddenly I can feel Elliot's presence begin to wash over me; can hear his footsteps slowly getting closer. Even though my eyes stay locked on Cragen my mind continues to drift back to Elliot; to the sound of the distance between us decreasing, the smell of his aftershave becoming more pertinent.

"Elliot" Cragen nods toward his office door looking more calm than earlier, but still simmering beneath the surface; like a volcano about to blow. I watch Elliot as he passes by, our eye's meet for a split second before he tears his away and follows behind the Captain. When Elliot shuts the door behind him, I get up from my desk and start to walk toward the door. The whole time saying to myself, "I will not look back, I will not look back". I'm five feet from the door…four…three…two. My hand is on the door handle, yet I can't seem to pull it open; I clench the door handle, so hard my knuckles turn white. Ignoring that little part that's screaming, don't do it. I slowly turn around and face Cragen's office, the door handle leading out of the squad room slips through my fingers as I cross back to the other side of the room. I look around the room to make sure no one's paying attention, then I kneel on the floor and open Cragen's office door slightly, leaning my head close to listen in. I can hear Cragen sigh then after a few moments of silence he speaks.

"How could you let this happen? You were supposed to make sure nothing went wrong Elliot." His chair makes a soft creak as he drops into it.

"I know" Elliot says, voice gruff. "I won't let anything or anyone hurt her again."

My chest tightens a bit at Elliot's promise. Still keeping my ear pressed to the small split between the doorframe and the door, I begin to feel uneasy almost like someone's watching me. I scan my surroundings, making sure to keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. The hairs at the nape of my neck begin to stick up, as the feeling keeps getting stronger and stronger until I can't take it anymore. I stumble to my feet, and practically crash into Cragen's office. I stare at my feet; still standing half bent over, the door wide open behind me. For a few moments all is silent. I stand straight up and close the door behind me, still avoiding the stares of my partner and my boss. When I do look up, I look straight at Cragen my eyes not leaving his as I take the seat next Elliot. Even though all my attention is on Cragen I can still feel Elliot looking at me, more so my neck and the bandages covering the area where I was attacked. I subtly move my hair over, obstructing his view.

"It wasn't his fault" I say with more confidence then I originally entered with.

Cragen places his head in his hands, and sighs. "Olivia, he was in the room with you to prevent an event like this from happening."

"That doesn't mean it was his fault, I'm the one who provoked Grant. I'm the reason he went off, but I'm not surprised he did because if you hadn't noticed that man was a fucking time bomb during that interrogation!" I say, pointing in the general direction of the holding cell Grant is currently locked up in.

Elliot reaches out and grabs my wrist, holding it firmly in his grasp. "Liv, he's right I should of-"

I wrench my arm away and leap out of my seat; turning on him I yell "What more could you of done Elliot? You pulled him off, at that point in time that was all you could do so stop saying there's something else you could've done because there wasn't."

I look from Cragen who looked a little shocked at my sudden outburst, to Elliot who knows me better than anyone didn't look all to surprised.

"Is that all?" I ask turning back to Cragen.

"Yeah that's all, and Olivia I want you to take a few days off, to let your neck heal"

I'm already half out the door when I shout back "I'll be back tomorrow."

I walk right past my desk and through the small groups of cops mulling around and straight out the door leading out of the squad room. I continue on my way out of the precinct stopping halfway to my car in the parking lot, feeling the same sensation I had felt before I had burst into Cragen's office. I take deep breaths, the air coming out of my mouth becoming visible in the chilly November air. Hand on my gun I slowly turn around to see a silhouette standing shrouded in the shadows. The figure moves to take a step forward when a noise makes us both snap our heads to the left. I look over to see Elliot jogging towards me, at the sight of him the living shadow darts between the surrounding cars and into the night. I'm so set on trying to figure out where the shadow had run off to, I jump when Elliot places his hand on my shoulder.

"Hey" he chuckles "A little jumpy are we."

When I don't answer he dips his face closer to mine, to get a better look at my face.

"Are you okay" he's says a little more serious.

"Yeah I'm fine" I turn until I'm fully facing him. He gives me a doubtful look.

"Really Elliot I'm good" I move to walk around him but he grabs the hem of my coat and gently pulls me back toward him. I look up to peer into his eyes and see him watching me intently. My cheeks begin to turn red and not just from the cold. I turn my head away to hide my flushed cheeks from his view. My hair falling into my face, Elliot tucks my hair behind my ear with one hand while guiding my head to face him again with the other. Once our gazes lock, I no longer seemed to care about the 27 degree weather or the human shadow. All I care about is this man in front of me and what he means to me, and the fact that I don't know what I'd ever do without him. His left hand drops from my face to my waist pulling me even closer to his warm body. We're so close our lips are practically touching. Taking his right hand he parts my hair and begins to trail his fingers over the wounds on my neck. I let out a shuddering breath and lean my head against his chest enjoying the close proximity. I can feel him lay his head atop mine.

"I'm sorry, Liv" I just barely hear him whisper in the silence of the parking lot.

I don't have to know Elliot as well as I do, to know that he genuinely thinks that there was something he could have done to avoid what had happened. I raise my head causing him to do the same; I place my hand on his cheek.

"El, I want you to know that there is no possible way you could have known what he was going to do, and you helped get him off of me. So if anyone should be saying anything it should be me."

I take my other arm and wrap it over his neck.

"Thank you, for being there when I needed you, and helping in the only way you could."

His gaze drops from my eyes to my lips and back. I stand up on tip toes as he lowers his face to mine. His lips are so close to mine, when the moment is ruined by his phone vibrating between us. I laugh and step back and away from Elliot as be begins to grumble as he searches for his phone. I watch him yank it out of his coat pocket and bring it up to his face, the face I was so close to only moments before.

"What" he snaps at the person on the other line. For a moment everything's fine, then all too fast Elliot's posture shifts from open to hostile, the color draining from his face. I watch as he slowly replaces the emptiness in his pocket with his phone, and turn towards me.

"Elliot what's wrong?" I say slowly walking towards him.

He shakes his head "Nothing, but I have to go"

"Ok, I'll see you tomorrow" I'm already walking backwards toward my car as I say it.

He doesn't say anything back, just watches me as I get in my car and drive away. The whole drive I couldn't get the look on Elliot's face out of my head. I don't want to say it but he'd looked scared, almost like he had seen a ghost. I parked my car in my usual spot and climbed out, heading toward my apartment complex. The whole trip to my door was a blur it was like one minute I'm beginning the ascent up three flights of stairs and the next I'm walking into my apartment and locking the door behind me. Walking straight into my bedroom I change into yoga pants and a tank top, setting my gun and badge on the table next to my bed while doing so. Then I crawl beneath my covers and shut my eyes. I'm half asleep when my phone begins to ring, not even bothering to see who it is I hold it up to my ear and press the answer button.

"Hello?" I ask groggily.

A voice I can't seem to match with a name speaks up, "He's more evil than you think"

I sit up farther, becoming more alert. "Who is this?"

"He's killing them you know, in Central Park" he continues in an eerily calm voice, sending shivers down my spine.

"What are you talking about? Who's He?"

"Why your partner of course" The mysterious caller then hung up, the dial tone sending terrifying tremors throughout my body.

I quickly hang up and dial Elliot's number, but I end up going straight to voicemail. I end the call and place my phone back on my bedside table. Lying back down, I stare into the surrounding darkness and wait for morning to arrive.

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Do you think Elliot's a killer?

Til' next update

-Alice May


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